


Splinters

by BnB (The_Third_Time)



Series: Deimos [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Omega, F/F, Jealousy, Omega Verse, Omegaverse, alpha!Kassandra, child grooming, omega!Aspasia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:12:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17863643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Third_Time/pseuds/BnB
Summary: Deimos. How Aspasia made her.An omegaverse AU.





	Splinters

**Author's Note:**

> Because I’m violently allergic to Alexios being the Eagle Bearer, this is an alternate universe where the Cult, not Markos, find seven-year-old Kassandra after she gets thrown off Mount Taygetos. I also put my own spin on isu blood.
> 
> Anyway, it’s in the tags, it’s in the summary, but I need to stress three things:
> 
> 1\. OMEGAVERSE.
> 
> 2\. To clarify the underage warning: Aspasia and Kassandra will first have sex when Kassandra is just 17.
> 
> 3\. The grooming tag. Aspasia and Kassandra’s relationship in this story is fucked up. It’s fucked up. It’s in Kassandra’s point of view so it’s going to be skewed. I DO NOT condone it.
> 
> The fic is rated M because I can’t write smut. Tell me if it should be bumped up to E.

“You are forsaken, girl. Sparta gave you to Taygetos. So goes the prophecy: the grandchildren of King Leonidas will bring Sparta to its doom.”

“Your father offered you to the mountain himself. He chose duty over you, his own daughter.”

“And your mother, she wasn’t even there. Do you know why? Because she took your brother and then she left. She saved him, but not you.”

* * *

They were wrong.

Her mother would come for her.

* * *

Days passed. They took her somewhere, to one of the islands. She didn’t know which one. Then they took her to a big fortress on a mountain. The banners that hung from its walls showed two snakes fighting.

There were other children, other alpha pups. Lost, like her. Unwanted by their parents. Abandoned.

Like her?

_No._

Her mother was looking for her.

The fortress was like the agoge. Not that she ever went. Her father brought her to Mount Taygetos instead.

She and the other kids slept outside of the fortress walls, their ankles chained to the trees so they couldn’t run away. One night, a boar found them. They had to climb the trees, but the girl with her was too slow. She went back down and killed the boar, used the long chain to strangle it.

She tried to get help, but she couldn’t get far because of the chains. She called for it, but it never came. By morning, the girl was dead.

They punished her, broke her fingers one by one, reopened the wounds she got from the boar, and then again when she healed. She shouldn’t have called for help. She shouldn’t have helped at all. The girl was slow. The girl was weak. She had to die.

* * *

Food was scarce. Whatever the children hunted, the guards took for themselves.

“Take it back, if you dare,” they would say, and then they would laugh. They were big, fully grown alphas, and they wore armor, had weapons.

The children were barefoot and starved.

The leftovers given to them were days old, sometimes rotten. And it wasn’t enough. They had to fight to eat.

When she won, she shared with the kids who didn’t get any. The guards beat her. She fought them, but she was small and they were big, and they were many. Then they put her in a cell for the rest of the week. No food. No water.

She tried to sleep, but she kept seeing her father’s face, the look in his eyes when he let her go.

Where was her mother?

The next time they gave out food, she won again. A boy tried to take it from her.

“It’s mine! Mine!” she roared, and then she hit him. She hit him until he gave it back. She hit him until he stopped moving.

It scared the other kids. She had the food all to herself. She didn’t share, not this time. She was hungrier than any of them. She needed it. She fought for it, won it. She deserved it.

* * *

“Kassandra.”

That sounded strange. She hadn’t heard her name in a while. Weeks? Months? It was hard to tell how much time had passed. The days were long, the nights even longer.

“Do you know why you’re here, Kassandra?”

She didn’t. She had been beating on another kid when the guards dragged her inside. She was beating all the other kids. Should she have killed them? But then there would be no one left to hit.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked. Even her hands were chained this time. Chrysis usually rewarded her when she hurt the other kids. Should she have killed them? There were older kids to hit.

The stranger smiled. She was new, smelled different from the other adults. An omega, like her mother.

“You’re here because I wanted to meet you,” the stranger said. Her eyes were gray. They looked kind. “My name is Aspasia.”

“Aspasia,” she repeated. “Why me?”

Aspasia smiled again. “Because you are special, Kassandra. You know it. You feel it. Don’t you?”

She looked at the shackles on her wrists. The chains they used on her were different: heavier, tougher. She’d break them soon. She just had to get stronger.

Then, Aspasia said, “You have the blood of gods, Kassandra.”

* * *

“If I’m a god, then why am I here?” she asked Aspasia when they saw each other again. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Aspasia touched her face. She tensed, almost attacked, but then Aspasia purred. The last person who had done that for her was her mother. She relaxed, nuzzled Aspasia’s hand. It was soft. “Indeed, you are a god, Kassandra,” Aspasia told her, “but you are also still a child. You were helpless on Mount Taygetos. You couldn’t stop your father.”

Her father. Thinking of him used to make her sad. Now, it made her angry.

“The world is a cruel place, Kassandra, where a father betrayed his daughter, where a mother abandoned her. It’s a terrible place, even for a god. The struggles we put you through, all the pain, it’s to make you stronger, until there is nothing and no one in the world that can hurt you.”

Hurt. There was one thing that still hurt more than the broken bones and the whippings.

“Do you really think my mother abandoned me, Aspasia?”

“I’m sorry, Kassandra.” Aspasia touched her face again, with both hands this time. “She’s not here, but I am.”

* * *

“No one likes me,” she told Aspasia on the next visit. It was after she killed one of the guards when they took the deer she had hunted. The rest of them beat her, but it was worth it. She proved she was getting stronger. She got to see Aspasia.

“Does that bother you, Kassandra?” Aspasia asked, touching one of her many new scars. They had just healed, and they were trophies she was proud of.

“I don’t think so,” she answered the question. She hadn’t really thought about what she felt about it, only what everyone else did. “The older kids want to kill me. They try every night when they think I’m asleep.”

“What about the children your age?”

“They’re all dead. I killed them all,” she said with a shrug. “The other kids are scared they’re next.”

“Are they?” Aspasia asked, now petting her hair. Her mother used to do that.

“Yes. Then the guards. Then Okytos. Then Belos. Then Exekias. I’ll be the strongest fighter. I’ll prove I’m a god.”

* * *

She saw everything clearly from then on, what she had to do, what she had to become.

She counted the days. In five years, the chains had come off. She no longer thought of her father. She had forgotten her mother’s scent.

She almost killed Okytos. Aspasia stopped her, told her they needed him to train new soldiers.

She got her spear back, and a new name: Deimos.

“Deimos.” Aspasia was the first to say it. “A strong name. A god’s name. It suits you. Do you like it?”

She bowed her head, something she would only do in Aspasia’s presence. “Not from you. I like it better when you call me Kassandra.” She closed her eyes, expecting punishment. From anyone else, even the Monger, she would look them in the eye and laugh, but from Aspasia? Just the thought of it hurt, for some reason.

The blow never came. Instead, Aspasia touched her cheek, held her chin up. When she opened her eyes, Aspasia was smiling at her. “Kassandra it is, then, when it’s just you and I.”

“Really?” she asked. Her face felt funny. Was she smiling?

Aspasia laughed. “It’ll be our little secret,” she whispered, and then kissed her cheek. “Kassandra.”

It made her heart race with a different kind of excitement, in a way she’d never felt before. Like the thrill of a kill, only sweeter.

* * *

There was nothing to do for the next few days. Okytos was bedridden, alive only because of Aspasia. He was the warden of the fortress, the man who trained her and the other children, as well as the alpha guards. They were all dead now.

There was no one left for her to fight here. Okytos had been her final challenge, though he was anything but. The look on his face when he realized he had lost to a pup, to an alpha not yet grown, it was almost funny. Then she saw it in his eyes, when she was about to snap his neck, that he knew, finally, that he was looking at a god.

Soon, she would have all of the Cult looking at her the same. Then Greece, and then the rest of the world.

But first, she had to get stronger. There were still Belos and Exekias to beat.

For now, she rested. She tried to train, but grew bored of it quickly. It wasn’t the same alone, when there was no one to hit. She had killed anyone worth hitting. More were coming, she was told, and this time, with a doctor who made a special tonic that gave great strength.

_Good,_ she thought. Maybe she’d finally get a challenge.

She had no room of her own because she still slept outside, so she climbed to the top of the highest building in the stronghold and lounged there.

She liked high places, loved leaping from them. The first thing she did when the chains came off was climb this very building and jump from it.

She used to have dreams of climbing back up Mount Taygetos and then dragging her father down to the pit with her. He would survive, barely, and she’d stab his weak heart with her grandfather’s spear.

The spear she now held in her hands again, she realized. They’d given it back, told her she had proven herself after she defeated Okytos. Proven what, they didn’t say, but Aspasia was impressed, so it didn’t matter.

Aspasia. She liked Aspasia, liked her voice, her smile. Would Aspasia like her back when she was all grown up?

* * *

An eagle showed up, all of a sudden. He was young, like her, barely old enough to be on his own. He followed her everywhere. Weird, because animals were usually afraid of her.

The eagle understood her, not just what she said but what she felt. She started hunting with him, even started talking to him. One day, she found out that she could see through his eyes.

She named him Ikaros.

* * *

“A mercenary?”

“Yes. There was trouble at the port today, and this young mercenary saved me from thugs who for certain wanted to do more than rob me.”

“What? Aspasia, are you all right? Where were your guards?”

“Killed by the thugs, I’m afraid, Perikles. They would have killed me as well, had it not been for this brave, strong young alpha.”

The praise had Kassandra standing straighter, had her puffing her chest at Perikles as the man sized her up. It was only because Aspasia was watching that she didn’t bare her fangs at him. How tempting it was to do. He would probably run. He looked like a coward.

“Young, indeed,” he said. “Barely an adolescent, from the looks of you, but I don’t think I’ve seen so many scars, not even on our most seasoned soldiers. Ah. Pardon me. I didn’t mean to be rude. Thank you for saving my dear Aspasia’s life…”

“Deimos,” she told him, and it felt right to say.

“Deimos,” he repeated, and it was even better to hear him say it, how daunted he was by her name alone. “I’m sure you’ve already been well compensated, but, please, stay for a meal. I’m unable to join you because I’ve a meeting to attend, but I’m sure Aspasia’s company would be more than enough.” To Aspasia, he said, “I’ll see you later. Thank the gods you’re safe.”

“No, thank Deimos.”

“Yes, of course. Of course. You have my eternal gratitude, Deimos. Aspasia means the world to me.”

He left, at last, but not before putting his hands on Aspasia’s shoulders. If he stayed any longer, she would have chased him out of his own house, but soon he was gone, and then it was just her and Aspasia. Not for long, she knew.

Aspasia put a hand on her chest, looked at her strangely. “You’re 15.”

“And?” was the only response she could think of. It was an odd thing, what Aspasia said. She wasn’t sure of her age. When they first brought her to the Lemnos fortress, it felt like many years had passed but it probably wasn’t even one.

If Aspasia said she was 15, then she was 15. Aspasia was right. She always was.

“You’ve… grown, Kassandra.” Aspasia sounded shocked. And pleased? “When I last saw you, I didn’t have to look up.”

Praise from Aspasia often thrilled her, but this one made her sullen. “If you saw me more often, then this wouldn’t surprise you.”

“That is the plan.” Aspasia smiled, and she forgot why she was pouting. “As a mercenary, you can move about Greece freely, anywhere you please, and as much. When war happens, and it will, you will turn the tides in our favor. But for now, you are a mercenary who saved my life, and for that, you are welcome in this house, as far as Perikles is concerned.”

She scoffed. “I don’t like him.”

Aspasia hummed. “No, you don’t.”

* * *

At 17, she went into her first rut. She was in Athens.

She didn’t remember if she got paid for the job she had taken the night before, or if she even finished it. She didn’t remember sneaking into Perikles’ house, only that he was there. Why was he still there?

She waited. Why was she waiting?

Aspasia would be upset. She didn’t want that. She wanted something else. She wanted Aspasia.

She heard Perikles talking, through the walls she heard him. All he did was talk.

_Shut up._

_Shut up!_

He did. Had she said it out loud, given herself away? No, it was Aspasia, telling him to go, that he was expected at the Pnyx. Then, finally, he left.

Perikles hadn’t even made it all the way down the stairs before she was pushing the bedroom door open. Aspasia sat on the bed, naked, the sheets pooled around her waist.

“Kassandra.”

She blinked, stared at the hand on her chest. When had she gotten so close to Aspasia? When did she even approach? She tried to speak, to say Aspasia’s name, but the omega’s scent was so strong, overwhelming. It was tainted by Perikles stench, his stink hanging in the room and all over Aspasia.

“Kassandra.”

Aspasia gripped her chin, hard, and only then did she realize she was snarling. She stopped, withered under Aspasia’s glare. “Sorry. I’m sorry,” she whined, she whimpered. “I feel,” she groaned and shook her head. That wasn’t the right word. Her head was spinning, filled with Aspasia. “I need. I need--”

Aspasia’s hand slid down, and the omega had her gasping and bucking forward. “I know, Kassandra. I know. It’s good that you came to me. It’s very good,” Aspasia cooed in her ear, hot breath making her shiver, “ because I am exactly what you need.”

Aspasia was soft: her lips, her hands, her body. She couldn’t get enough, couldn’t stop herself from kissing and touching the omega all over, roughly, wildly. There was a need, a primal, alpha need to fuck, to possess. She had to feel Aspasia, to taste her, leave marks and bruises until there was nothing, nothing left of Perikles.

It was glorious, how the omega arched under her, chest heaving, legs spread, and it was musical, Aspasia’s breathless gasps of, “Gods, yes,” after being stretched and filled.

Then she was rutting, fucking Aspasia into the mattress that would soon smell like her. Aspasia’s nails dug into her shoulders, her back, her hips. The omega moaned and crooned, hot and tight around her, welcoming every thrust with an eager, greedy squeeze and begging, “Fuck me. Fuck me, Kassandra,” and those words alone nearly undid her.

Aspasia, splayed on the bed, head thrown back, breasts bouncing. Aspasia, wet, pliant, chanting her name, screaming it. Aspasia, shuddering under her, so close. So close.

Her knot had formed, and it broke the rhythm of her pounding hips. She whined. It hurt, the knot, whenever it caught. She needed to be inside Aspasia, all the way inside, needed to feel the omega open up for her, accept her.

Aspasia gripped her chin, and like before, it stopped her, this time halting the hurried, angry drive of her hips. “You come to me for this, Kassandra. Remember that. Remember this: your ruts, they belong to me, and me alone. You belong to me. You are mine.”

“Yours, Aspasia,” she groaned, nodded over and over. She would say anything, do anything Aspasia wanted. “Yours. All yours. All yours.”

Aspasia smiled and let her go, let her move again, purred when her knot finally slid inside. She came then, moaning and panting into Aspasia’s neck. Soft fingers slid up her back, tangled in her hair, along with whispers of, “Good girl. Good girl.”

* * *

Eagle Bearer. The warrior with the broken spear. Hero of the arena. Rider of Abraxas. The Greek world had come to call her by these titles over the few short years she had been a mercenary.

Belos was long dead, the first she killed in Pephka’s arena. Exekias, she’d hunted down recently. The only thing left of him was his horse Abraxas, a mare with a coat so bright and red, like fire, that it was said it raced straight out of underworld. A fitting prize.

“What now?” she asked Aspasia.

The omega was smoothing out her chiton and fixing her hair, but her face, still flushed, her eyes glazed, it would be a while yet until she didn’t look like she had just been thoroughly fucked. On Perikles’ desk, to be precise, and what a mess they’d made.

And the smell? If only Perikles weren’t a beta.

“Now, you sail to Phokis and meet with Elpenor. He’ll have something very important to show you,” Aspasia told her, the omega helping her fasten her leather bracers. “I’d show you myself, but my absence from Athens wouldn’t go unnoticed. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Pout.”

“I’m not pouting.”

Aspasia only hummed and kissed her. It worked. It always did. “Good girl. I promise the trip will be worth it.”

“Fine.”

When she made it to Phokis, Elpenor brought her to the Sanctuary of Delphi, to the lair underneath it. Inside there was an artifact, a small pyramid of unusual structure and an even more unusual glow. It hummed with power, drew her to it.

She touched it, and it gave her a vision of the island Andros, of a forge similar in make to the pyramid.

She sailed to Andros, taking with her all the fragments of the pyramid. There she found the forge, its doors opened by her spear. She realized then: this was where her spear had been made, and with the pyramid fragments, she could improve it, strengthen it.

When she retrieved her spear, reforged, made new, she felt its power, and it made her blood sing.

From then on, the Greek world came to know her by one title: god.

* * *

She only fucked omegas, but never when they’re in heat. Her pups, like her ruts, were for Aspasia and Aspasia alone. No other omega deserved to carry her pups. No other omega deserved to give birth to gods.

In Korinthia, she enjoyed Anthousa’s girls, every one of them, even Anthousa herself.

She loved how they’d say, “Deimos,” with reverence, loved how good they looked on their knees when they paid her fleshly tribute.

Then, in Kythera, there was Diona.

“And what, exactly, separates Aspasia from the rest of us?”

She grunted, displeased with the question, the gall to ask it. She pulled at Diona’s hair, not enough to hurt, much. The omega purred, smirked against her hip before placing a kiss there. Diona always did prefer a little pain with her pleasure.

“Is it only your feelings for her that make her special, Deimos?” Diona asked, this time with a soft, sultry laugh. The omega also didn’t wait for an answer, her mouth replacing her hand.

She groaned then, feeling the back of Diona’s throat.

Next Diona spoke, it was when she was on her hands and knees. “I would give you everything, Deimos, if you chose me. My body, every night, whenever you want. My heart, all of it. Pups, as many as you desire. Everything Aspasia denies you.”

She growled and grasped the back of the omega’s neck, each thrust of her hips more forceful than the last.

“Yes. Yes!” Diona cried out, clenched so tightly around her. “I would love you, Deimos, worship you as you deserve. All you have to do is make the choice.”

Diona’s words stayed with her after they were finished, as well as the rest of her stay Kythera. They followed her back to Athens, back to Aspasia.

* * *

“Kassandra? You’re not supposed to be here.”

No, she wasn’t. Aspasia was in heat. The omega smelled so good, and nothing like Perikles.

“I am exactly where I need to be,” she told the omega, and she stepped forward, pushed against the hand on her chest.

“Kassandra.”

She stopped. That tone, it just put her in place.

“Perikles will be here any moment. You need to leave.”

She didn’t move, bared her fangs instead.

“Remember what I said? Soon. Soon, I promise,” Aspasia said, touching her face, pulling her in for a kiss. “Soon, we can be together, Kassandra, free from Perikles. Just a little longer. Wait just a little longer. I promise.”

She sighed, melted into the kiss. “Soon, then,” she mumbled into Aspasia’s neck, breathing in the omega’s heat-laden scent. She almost pushed her way back inside, pushed Aspasia down on the bed, but she didn’t.

When Perikles showed up, Aspasia thought she had left. But she was outside the room, listening, seething.

* * *

She began to travel more. She went to Lemnos, back to the stronghold where she had been raised. Okytos still trained soldiers, though he never did regain the use of his legs after what she had done to him. He did little to hide the hate in his eyes when he saw her, did even less to hide the fear.

She stopped by Korinthia, spent time with Anthousa and her girls.

Then she went to Arkadia. It was the closest Aspasia would let her get to Sparta. Pausanias sometimes spoke to her through the archon Lagos. When she arrived at his compound, he was talking to a Spartan.

“Deimos.” Lagos couldn’t hide his surprise. She hadn’t announced her visit. He looked nervous. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting you. This is my good friend Brasidas.”

“Deimos? I know the name,” Brasidas said. “The tales I’ve heard of you, I thought you were just a myth. They say you’re a god.”

“Fight me and see for yourself,” she told him, and he laughed.

He wasn’t laughing when he lost, but neither was she, after what he said.

“You fight like a Spartan,” he had said.

She went to Phokis after that. The pyramid had nothing new to show her. She sailed to Kythera, stayed with Diona for a while and then left before the omega’s heat began.

She sailed to Keos and met with Xenia, a pirate leader Aspasia knew.

“What?” she asked when she noticed Xenia staring at her.

“Your eyes,” the pirate said. “It’s like I’ve seen them before.”

* * *

“I’ve missed you, Kassandra,” Aspasia told her when she returned to Athens, pulled her into a kiss and then to bed.

The bed, and Aspasia, smelled like Perikles.

* * *

While watching through Ikaros’ eyes, she saw something unusual in the Sinkholes of Herakles: a lion, bigger than any she had ever seen. She had to see it herself. She had to fight it.

The lion was strong, stronger than anyone, anything she’d face before.

It knocked her down, made her bleed, gave her the best fight of her life.

She won. She was stronger, but she didn’t kill the lion. Her spear responded to the beast. It deserved a fate better than death.

Someone was watching her. Huntresses. Daughters of Artemis. She knew about them. Even the Cult feared their marksmanship, the rain of their fire arrows. Their leader was there, an omega with hazel eyes.

They stared at each other, for how long, she didn’t know, but eventually, the omega turned around and left, her sisters following her.

“Odd,” she said to Ikaros, who chirped.

She knelt in front of the lion. It was hurt, but it would live.

She named him Phobos.

* * *

“I fear Perikles will soon convince himself into starting war with Sparta.”

She laughed. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear when she had just been inside Aspasia, but it was funny. “Let him,” she told the omega, and laughed again when Aspasia was unamused.

“We’re not ready for war, Kassandra,” Aspasia said with sigh.

She scoffed. “You have me. What else do you need?”

“Control, on both sides. Athens will be secure under Kleon, but Sparta, we still have Archidamos to deal with.”

“Is that all?”

“It’s not so simple, Kassandra.” Aspasia sighed again, shook her head. “I see you’ve been talking to Kleon and Pausanias again. They always have been so short-sighted, impatient. If Archidamos’ death was all we needed, don’t you think I would have had you kill him by now? Do you doubt me?”

She didn’t answer, only stared at Aspasia. The omega straddled her, nuzzled her neck, and then kissed her. She kissed back, moaned when Aspasia took her back inside.

“I know you’re frustrated. I know you’ve been feeling so restless, so aimless,” the omega cooed in her ear, began to ride her slowly. “War is inevitable, as is your purpose, Kassandra. The world, not just Greece, will see you for the god you are. It will happen. It’s just a matter of when.”

She buried her face in Aspasia’s neck, wrapped her arms around the omega’s rolling hips. “Soon,” she murmured against the unmarked skin, kissed there but didn’t bite. “Soon.”

“Yes,” Aspasia agreed, breath hitching, fingers tangled in her hair. “Good girl. Good girl.”

* * *

When Perikles next appeared on the Pnyx, she joined him on the stage. She killed his guards, the ones already there and the ones who dared to fight her, until the marble white of the stage was red with blood and bodies.

“What are you doing, Kassandra?” Aspasia demanded, the only thing standing between her and Perikles. “Kassandra.”

That didn’t stop her. She pushed passed Aspasia, grabbed Perikles by the throat.

“Kassandra!”

With Athens watching, she slit Perikles’ throat.

Then, to Aspasia, she said, “My name is Deimos.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be taking a break but this idea wouldn’t leave me alone. I know this could have easily been a long, multi-chapter fic, but if I went that route, I think I’d lose my mind and then the fic wouldn’t exist at all.
> 
> I may go back to this one day and flesh it out, maybe write a sequel. For now, I hope it did its job well enough, that it told a full story despite how short it is.


End file.
